


Nick and Nora

by rivkat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Eight crazy nights, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-12
Updated: 2011-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkat/pseuds/rivkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For theatervine: What if. Instead of Lisa and Ben it was Cassie that Dean went to and they became the Nick and Nora Charles of Supernatural? She's a reporter, he's a PI, together they crack cases and take down bad guys, human & supernatural? How would that change things when Samuel, Sam and the others showed up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nick and Nora

“It’s not that you’re …” Samuel said, and Dean just waited, though Cassie didn’t look surprised. Then Dean remembered that Samuel was thirty-five years older than he looked. Dean glared at him. “She’s not family!” Samuel said, throwing up his hands.

“How the fuck do you think somebody gets to _be_ family?” Dean demanded, edging closer to Cassie, who folded her arms but blessedly continued to let Dean do the talking. Dean looked to Sam for some help, but Sam continued to give him nothing, leaning in the corner of Samuel’s cluttered office and watching the confrontation like he was waiting to see if a line of ants would succeed in moving a leaf five hundred times their own size. Dean gave him a later-for-you eyebrow raise, even as his stomach dropped Pitwards.

Samuel’s frustrated chuff brought Dean’s attention back. “An _investigative reporter_ , Dean? This isn’t Candid Camera.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Dean told him.

“It means we can’t just tell the world about what we do!”

“Gee,” Dean said, letting the sarcasm drip heavily, “after a lifetime of hunting monsters, I had no idea that people found it hard to believe. Cassie’s known about us for most of a decade, been doing this herself for a year. The stories she’s sold haven’t been anything that puts us in danger. I trust her judgment.”

“Yeah?” Samuel asked, something cold and assessing in his eye. “I don’t trust yours.”

Dean couldn’t help his silent appeal to Sam, but he didn’t have to stick around when Sam smiled, slick and professional, and held up his hands and tried to pretend like Samuel had a point.

Back at the motel, Cassie got behind him when he sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping herself around him with her knees around his hips and her arms draped over his shoulders. “So,” she said into his ear, “that went well.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean leaned back into her, just a little.

Cassie’s voice was pitched low, seductive. “What’s up with Sam, and what on earth does Samuel Campbell think an investigative reporter might find out that he doesn’t want someone else to know?”

“Take out the ‘on earth’ part,” Dean cautioned, and twisted to take her in his arms. She landed on his lap and he kissed her for a while. Eventually he had to stop, even though he kept a hand touching her face. “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you signed on for dangerous. But I’m pretty sure this is gonna be worse. Anything with my family—and Sam back from the Pit, we don’t know why. The last time one of us got grabbed out of Hell it was the apocalpyse. So, you know, I’d probably respect your intelligence more if you walk away.”

Cassie settled herself more firmly on his thighs. “Still smarter than you,” she said fondly.

Dean snorted. “Not a high bar,” he began, but Cassie put two fingers to his still-kiss-warm lips.

“When you showed up,” Cassie said, “I thought you’d probably kill yourself pretty soon. I thought, if I get him through the next month, then maybe he’ll decide to live. And then I thought, maybe if I find him a ghost. I didn’t know how much I’d like it. The stories I tell are supposed to make people’s lives better, Dean. If I can do that some other way—okay, I still want that Pulitzer. But if I can help, then I guess I’ll have to settle for writing the liberal drifter’s answer to _Left Behind_.”

Dean had his hands on her waist, just keeping her stable. “You can always change your mind,” he promised.

“Idiot,” she said, and kissed him again.


End file.
